


Some Company

by eticatka



Series: Striketober 2020 [14]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Dogs, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eticatka/pseuds/eticatka
Summary: "The days went by slower than he was used to. He wasn’t exactly bored, but he found himself starting waiting for Robin to come home the moment she left in the morning."A follow-up to"Is This Really Necessary?"and"Don't Lie to Me".
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Striketober 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956391
Comments: 16
Kudos: 33
Collections: Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020





	Some Company

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CupofTia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupofTia/gifts).



> I couldn't help adding a bit of fluff to this story, and it would be incomplete without some nice behaviour from our favourite Wolfgang the dachshund! Thanks to @CupofTia for inspiring this bit by the amazing [series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965541) about Strike and Wolfgang!  
> I used two Striketober prompts here, and it's seems I've finally caught up! Yay! 
> 
> (check out the previous parts of the story in case you missed them!)

Living in Max’s flat had only one disadvantage: it was too big for someone who was used to live in a tiny cramped space, as well as for someone who had to move around on crutches. However, Strike established his new routine quickly: he pushed himself upstairs in the morning and stayed there until Robin came home. For the most part, he worked on his laptop in the living room, occasionally hopping to the kitchen (or bathroom) and back.

The days went by slower than he was used to. He wasn’t exactly bored, but he found himself starting waiting for Robin to come home the moment she left in the morning. Thanks to Pat who rearranged the rota, Robin had no night surveillances, so she could come home every night at more or less the same hour. She would check how Strike fulfilled the doctor’s prescription and if he kept his leg at rest. Strike couldn’t probably admit it even to himself, but he started to enjoy it. She wasn’t pressing, and that’s why it was so easy for him to comply with what she told him to do.

Strike wasn’t alone in his anticipation. Wolfgang, Max’s dachshund, waited for Robin with similar impatience, since Strike proved completely useless in the sense of taking him for a walk. So they waited every day, Strike and Wolfgang, united in their longing.

Right now Wolfgang was sitting in front of the large picture window in the living room, watching the downpour and softly whimpering. Strike took his crutches and moved towards the dog.

“Hey mate, want some company?”

“Woof,” said Wolfgang, as if meaning “of course I do!”, and patted the window glass with his paw.

“I know you want out. Me too. I would go for a walk with you, but in such a weather I wouldn’t be of much help even on two legs.”

Wolfgang poked Strike's stump with his nose.

“Are you asking ‘where does it hurt?’? Yes, mate, right there. No, don’t lick the bandage, please, you’ll get it wet.”

Wolfgang gave him a distrustful look, as if saying “I’m not stupid, I know it’s waterproof! I saw you taking a shower with this bandage on, and I saw what Robin did there, so if Robin can, why can’t I?”

“I miss her, too,” said Strike, lowering himself into the armchair by the window. “Come here, doggo. Let’s wait for her together.”

Wolfgang jumped to his lap.

*

Hours later, Strike was woken up by Wolfgang jumping down on the floor and running downstairs. Judging by the noise and fuss, Robin was back. In a few minutes, she was upstairs, preceded by jubilant Wolfgang. The dachshund jumped back to Strike’s lap.

“Look who’s back!” Strike said. “Mummy’s back!”

Robin burst out laughing.

“I’m not his mum. I’m his deputy chief wolf!”

“You’re what?”

“Well, Max says he’s his chief wolf and not his daddy, so while Max’s away…”

“Woof!” said Wolfgang, jumping down on the floor again.

“Yes, honey, we’re going for a walk in a bit!” said Robin, taking his place on Strike’s lap. She tried not to put too much pressure on his leg.

“God, I missed you,” whispered Strike, burying his face in her hair, then kissing her. There was so much domesticity in the feeling that she came home to him. She was his home.

“Woof!” reminded Wolfgang.

“Okay, coming!” Robin kissed her partner on the cheek and got up, winking at him. “To be continued.”

**Author's Note:**

> "I'm not his mum, I'm his chief wolf" is real! This is how my sister's mother-in-law referred to herself and her dog many years ago.  
> I'm not sure whether "to be continued" applies to this story as well - what do you think?


End file.
